


Railroad Of Lamest

by Unjustified



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, DefenseAttorney!Alec, DefenseAttorney!Isabelle, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Heavily Implied Character Death, Investigator!Clary, Investigator!Jace, Investigator!Simon, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murderer!Camille, Paranormal Attributes, Slow Build, Temporary Character Death, Trains, Trials, Victim!Magnus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unjustified/pseuds/Unjustified
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec Lightwood is a defense attorney hired to defend Camille Belcourt, charged with manslaughter in the first degree for the intentional murder of major entrepreneur Magnus Bane. Soon after taking on the case, he ends up at the scene of the crime, pocketing a valuable fragment of information, it likewise; comes back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Railroad Of Lamest

 

-

Alec Lightwood _really_ couldn’t catch a break, as one of the most eminent defense attorneys in New York, his schedule was never bare. Day after day it seems the convicted crawl to his feet mounting his patience and yammering irrepressibly until their requests are sated, which can drive a man mad. Lucky for them, patience was a hefty portion of his personality, and those who manage to make him anything but that, probably don’t need to coexist within three feet of him. That was when the call came, trembling the still air of his small apartment, despite his income. With a groan, the exhausted attorney stumbled to his feet, the floor depreciably freezing. Alec ran his calloused fingers through his dusky locks, wading in the pool of chaotic midnight. With a stifled yawn, he lousily gripped the white receiver and nudged it to his ear, shrugging to hold it in place as he dealt the documents from his last case in his palms.

“Yeah?” He groused, rubbing his forefinger against a dry coffee stain on the page, quickly disregarding it.

“Alec? Hey, Imogen called in today, there’s been another report.” Isabelle’s equally drained voice mumbled, he could hear the soft hum of classical music whirring in the background, he expected she was home as well.

“What is it?” He scoffed, paper clipping the files and tossing them onto the broad dining table as he made his way into the kitchen. Brushing a piece of hair from his face as he flicked on the light, quick typing could be overheard from the receiver.

“From the email it’s been broadcasted as a murder case, they’ve taken in witnesses for interrogation.” Isabelle spoke distantly, a deep sigh parting her lips.

“What’s the situation?” Alec questioned, bringing a pale red apple to his lips and gnawing at the bitter skin as Isabelle skimmed through the reading.

“Train accident, our victim was apparently pushed with intention, currently unidentified.” Her voice sharpened near the peak, the clicking of a pen was barely audible. “The primary suspect, Camille Belcourt, is requesting for you to serve as her attorney in court.”

Alec sighed, probing his temple in frustration. Not only was this a primary suspect, but that suspect was _Camille Belcourt_. Alec was sure the well acknowledged model could easily play the damsel in distress, any man would grovel at her feet for a chance with her, even if the woman _was_ on trial for manslaughter.

“What’s her plea?” Alec forced out, a bitter taste helical around his tongue as the air blemished the abandoned apple sedentary on the marble countertop.

“Guilty.” Isabelle snapped, he could clearly picture the scowl on her face, bright red lipstick captivating her pulled back frown. Alec sunk even deeper into displeasure, usually his clients plead innocent, giving him at least _some_ hope to work with. But she was pleading guilty, meaning his chances of putting justice to his title were feather light.

“Do I have a way out of this?” Alec whined, caressing the handle of the fridge, drawing out the damp smack of the fridge door opening. He scrunched his nose at the aroma of long expired food, and let the door cram back together without a word.

“Unless you know the victim or the suspect personally, you’re backed into a corner, big brother.” Isabelle informed him dejectedly, the clank of a glass against solid material reverberated as she spoke.

“ _Shit_.” He practically sniveled, “Does mom know?”

“She forwarded me the email, Herondale came to her first.” He could tell by the way she was speaking, it wasn’t optimistic news for her either.

A series of short jitters sounded from the other end of the line, and Isabelle rumbled agitatedly.

“I’ll call you back, mom’s calling, love you Alec.” She mourned, rubicund fingernails clacking against her tabletop.

“Love you too.” Alec laughed wryly, prior to Isabelle undergoing a series of muttered profanities and ending the call, silence and the droning of the air conditioner returning to acknowledgement.

“Dammit.” He groaned into his palms, dragging them down his face sourly. He was never enthusiastic to work most cases in the first place, but the one fact that he was _defending_ Camille Belcourt couldn’t leave his mind. The forecast of her crooked grin as she seized the life of her mutilated victim sent a chilling serum through his bloodstream.

He slid down the wall of the kitchen, vertebrae countering with the cabinet knobs as he reached the sunlit brown tiles, a shuttering breath absconding his lips.

This was going to be _something_ new.

-

“It’s just ridiculous, ya’know?” Isabelle said amid chews of her sweltering beef stroganoff, plastic fork lapping puckishly at the delicately prepared noodles. “This is _really_   good by the way.”

Alec smiled sheepishly, moving his own stroganoff around his plate, a little parched of his appetite. The sounds of busy office life pushed to the back of his mind.

“Is Jace joining us?” He asked softly, slipping a bite into his mouth subconsciously after speaking. Isabelle upturned her head, smiling gently.

“Yeah, he said he’d be running late, investigation is becoming time consuming.” She sighed, side eyeing her coworkers hurriedly scrambling throughout the institute with armfuls of archives. The case had everyone on edge, it seemed, Camille was under endless surveillance and penalized to multiple interrogations each day, Alec had yet to prearrange the chance to meet her. The sound of rushed footsteps echoed through the confined area, and Isabelle glared up through a mouthful of stroganoff. The door soared open and a grinning Jace appeared, eagerly hurling his bag onto the floor and practically diving into the plush office chair adjacent to Alec.

“What has you so excited?” Isabelle snorted, the edges of her mouth dappled with froth. Alec stifled a laugh into his knuckles, awaiting a giddy response.

“We’ve gotten farther in figuring all of this out, not-” he paused, waggling a finger for a strict advising, “That I wouldn’t be just as happy just eating lunch with you guys.” Isabelle rolled her eyes, nudging Jace’s shoulder lightheartedly.

“What’s new?” Alec pressed, chin resting on an angled palm as he curiously crooked his eyebrow. Suddenly coming to an understanding, he backhandedly reached back into his tote and brought out a second tub of stroganoff, gamboling it across the table to Jace. He caught it between his ink blemished hands, and smiled in thanks.

“You do realize I’m not legally obligated to tell you anything on this case, right?” Jace mused, a frisky edge to the way he spoke. Alec pretended to be in thought, and shrugged dismissively.

“But you’re going to, right?” Alec cooed kindly, spearing a bit of the noodles on a whim and enveloping it tangent to his tongue. Isabelle chuckles lightly at the two, scraping the last of her portion from the bottom and happily finishing it.

“You’ve got me there.” Jace throws up his hands, laughing hardily, before returning his attention to the appetizing tub at his will. As he took a graciously large bite of the enticing froth, he wagged his fork around trying to gulp enough to initiate a topic at the tip of his tongue. “So, we fortunately did find our victim’s name, through several, and I mean, _several_ , DNA testing sessions.” He breathed exhaustively, eyes settling at a thumbprint tacked to a variety of other files. “Since, you know, we didn’t have much to work with.” Jace explained grimly, not even bothering to mention the revolting attempt to autopsy the maimed body. He flipped open the bronzed folding, shucking a greyscale image of the engine that had taken the blow, nauseating remains snagged around the heavy grill. The majority of the victim had been removed from the scene, for the convenience of the public, but it was _very_ evident of what had happened.

“That bad, huh?” Alec grimaced, eyeing the atrocious scene laid out with unguarded repugnance, the metal railing around the tracks completely demolished, disseminated in various areas of the division.

“Yeah, it _is_ that bad. Even worse that the victim was the entrepreneur of a very economically important company.” Jace mumbled, eyebrows raising to enunciate his word, still probing through his stroganoff absently.

“Who?” Isabelle finally spoke up from her place, fingers twirling her broth-stippled fork absentmindedly.

“Magnus Bane of Bane Bionics, very well-respected.” Jace added, his eyes grazing up to Alec’s, and Alec bashfully eased the collar of his kohl black shirt timorously. A trivial gasp fled Isabelle, and she sagged back into her seat, distraught.

“Another casualty of someone with an outstanding sense of style, bummer.” She muttered pitiably, and Jace sent her a sharp glance. She straightened knowingly, smirking apologetically, “Sorry.”

Footsteps padding into the room perforated the veiling silence, three pairs of eyes shot up in acknowledgment. A glasses-bearing feeble man stepped inside, a red-headed flying saucer brutally countering her partner’s bland appearance.

“Simon, Clary.” Jace bobbed in greeting, beaming mutt-like towards his point of interest. Clary smiled timidly, waggling her fingers towards her assailant.

“Oh come on, she _just_ got here and you’re already set on target.” Isabelle moaned, moving to drape an arm around the reserved copper-top, her nose nestling against Clary’s inflamed cheek in welcome.

“Look who’s talking.” Jace pouted dejectedly, cramming the last bite of his meal into his mouth forcefully. “Anyway, what can I do for you detectives?” Jace postured professionally, the whiny pucker of his lips adding to his already infantile act.

“Camille is requesting to meet with Alec.” Simon complained, ruffling his disheveled hair, obviously having been interrogating the brute for hours on end.

“Now?” Alec scoffed objectionably, closing the lid to his container and flinging it into his teal furnished tote.

“Now.” Simon confirmed, sending Isabelle an apologetic look, smiling unhappily. “She’s anything _but_ patient.” Clary approved Simon’s statement, shaking her head tipsily.

Alec went to stand, halted by Isabelle taking ahold of his forearm. “You don’t _have_ to go, she can wait.” Isabelle warned, her eyes smiling at him supportably. He heard Simon mumble a quiet, ‘Can she?’ as he externally debated the thought.

“I’ll go.” Alec assured her, smiling down at a clod of dirt on the floor, lodged between the contraction of the wooden planks.

“Alec,” she embraced him quickly, patting the crook of his neck, “You’ll do great.” Alec nodded thankfully, trekking over to Jace to exchange parting ways.

“Be safe out there, you know, with the beast.” Jace crowed teasingly, patting Alec’s shoulder encouragingly, and nudging him forward a bit, “Go get her.”

Alec sent a facetiously bothered look back as Simon directed him out, but speedily grinned at them before the door thumped shut bigotedly.

-

Simon glared at Alec for authorization, eliciting a nod from the taller man. With a sigh of preparation, bringing his fingers to a tablet on the surface of the wall, dialing a few numerals onto the pad before a minor clack sounded. Simon reached for the handle and cautiously pushed open the door, revealing a dimly lit room with an equally as shallow woman suspended inside, her serpent-like eyes dilating at his entry. Simon sent him an encouraging glance before gracelessly dismissing himself from the chamber, the door closed with a taciturn snap, and Alec was susceptible to vulnerability.

“When I asked for you, I had _no_ idea you’d be so appealing.” Camille started erroneously, absently running a finger along his toned forearm, a warped smile tainting her unkempt face. Alec shifted away uncomfortably, and she darkened noticeably. “We _do_ need to get to know each other, why aren’t you making this easy?” She smacked, her serval tongue slathering free in disgust.

“The way that we are to interact is exclusively professional, I will not tolerate any more than that.” Alec retorted controllably, arms crossing over the coarse tabletop, his skin itching with clear abhorrence.

“Fine,” She hissed in disregarding, crossing her arms in defiance, “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what you have committed.” He barked plainly, taking the filings from his coat pocket, and dispersing them diagonally across the table. “ _And why_.”

She eyed the photograph of the crime scene and snorted sickly, and returning as equal of a gaze to Alec. She took the nearest photo into her hands, and closely observed the interior.

“I’ve already pled guilty; I don’t _have_   to tell you anything.” She spat in a matter-of-fact tone, her eyes tightening slimly.

“Listen,” Alec snapped, his gaze broadening into hers, “ _You_ hired me as your attorney, If I don’t know what the hell happened, I can’t defend you, which is a hell of a lot worse on your part, considering you’re the one serving the damn sentence.” He snarled hellishly, and Camille seemed taken aback, blinking in utter astonishment.

“Oh dear, have I woken a beast?” She cackled, daintily bringing her fingers to her unfathomably cerise lips and smiling silently. It only infuriated Alec further.

“I killed him, what more do I have to say?” She waved her hand contemptuously, yawning behind her sprawling palm, “That I didn’t feel a thing?”

Alec gaped at the utter harshness of her words, dismissing the life she took as if it was a mere speck on her mind, that it _meant nothing._

“Why did you do it?” He enquired flatly, pen sashaying across the beige pages. He heard her cluck with laughter, leaning forward across the table with a mortifying grin.

“You really think I’d ever let such a gorgeous man live on without me?” Her tongue flicked out across her lips, broadening the beaming grin framing her sharp features. “So I,” she emphasized with a forward pushing of her palms, “Let him have a taste of what it’d be like.”

A silence dragged on, and Alec busied his mind by jotting her words down against the tabloid, a bulb of appalling words bubbling in his throat, welting in agony as they pled to escape. His personal feelings shouldn’t be interfering with this case, but they were. The dry reminder of his own experience with such a loss, he chose to let it settle elsewhere for the time being.

“Something on your mind?” Camille lapped for information like a wretched mutt beached on a street corner rutting against every passing being for scraps that would be _worthless_ later, it was an easy observation.

“No.” He scowled, letting the notebook slack against the table with a thick smack. She mewled innocently in surprise, quickly twisting her face into a haunting countenance.

“Liar.” She stretched over the table, springing towards Alec with a wicked shriek, Alec barked starkly, butting the frailer form into the wall with a cautious amount of strength by her shoulders, he moved to his side and pushed a pale milky-white knob on his side, and Simon hurried into the room, his eyes wide in astonishment. He toddled over to Alec and positioned a hand over his shoulder, Alec jolted and released Camille’s shoulders leisurely.

“Very sharp reflexes, I’m _impressed_.” She purred, her hands resting on the form of her breasts, imaginary forked tongue springing free from tight restraint.

“Alec-“ Simon blubbered after him as he stormed towards the exit with clenched fists. Alec left the room deprived of another word, slamming the door behind him.

-

His back against the wall, Alec breathed shortly into his palms, hitching sobs aerated in his gasping throat. First, there was the sound of slow but practiced footsteps, and then there was the snapping of high heels approaching in a devastatingly fast stride. He felt her presence before she cocooned him in a motherly embrace, her hands working to pull his palms away, holding a wrist gently in each hand.

“Hey, hey,” she soothed, gliding one of her hands to his back and webbing gently across the planes of his shoulder blades, “Breathe, Alec, breathe.” Isabelle hushed him, bringing a hand to his cheek and thumbing away the tears that budded there. “What did she say to you?”

Alec allayed, forcing his eyes to stay open, despite the tears spilling there, he sniffled pathetically. With the first attempt, he croaked feebly, and embarrassingly hid behind the mess of his collar. After a grace period, he exhaled, defeated.

“She just got to me, that’s all.” He loused poorly, pugnaciously wiping the tears gushing from his red swollen eyes. “She killed that man without a care in the world. Not about his family, anything. It made me think of Max, if his murderer was the same way, I…” His voice broke into a devastated sob, and he wrapped his arms around his sister, weeping into the crook of her neck. She embraced him just as sincerely, her nose tucked into his shoulder.

“I miss him too, Alec.” Her voice gave out, and she gently soothed her brother without giving in to her own apprehensions. “You don’t have to do this.”

He stilled suddenly, and pulled back, his eyes intense with _something_ of interest. As fast as it was there, it was gone, and he bashfully downturned his doll-like face, sniffling faintly.

“No, I’m seeing this case from a new light, even if it’s selfish.” He stuttered, the flickering lights of the institute strobing against his clammy cheeks. “Avenging this man, might just give me the chance to do what I was never able to do for Max, it’s the _least_ I can do.”

“Oh Alec.” Isabelle murmured affectionately, her palm cupping his cheek, “Always out to do for others what you’ve never done for yourself.” She smiled lovingly, “Give yourself some credit.”

He closed his eyes, a wobble to his bottom lip. _He wished he could_.

Smiling back to her, he nodded, promising something he could never entrust himself with.

“Where’s Jace?” He led the conversation astray as he wiped the remaining wetness from his face, peering up to his sister, despite the saline soreness in his eyes.

“He headed home early to disperse with himself over the case, he let me know after you left he’d been requested to scout the scene, for anything they might’ve missed.” Isabelle charmed, snickering to herself. “He didn’t want you to get too excited before you entered the chamber of the beast, as he says.”

Alec smiled solemnly to himself, rubbing his knuckles with a forefinger and thumb, he parted his lips but Isabelle’s finger coasted upright and silenced him.

“And before you ask to go, like a child, you’re already invited.” An awkward pause later, Alec plumed into laughter, and an astounded smile crossed Isabelle’s features.

She sluggishly hoisted herself onto her feet, vigilant not to crank her ankles at a certain angle, presenting an open palm to her kneeling brother.

“Come on, Alec.” He gladly took her hand and did his best not to topple his sister to the questionably unsanitary floor with himself included. They strolled hand in hand out of the institute, conversing nosily about each other’s _eventfu_ l days.

-

“Are you _sure_ we’re going in the right direction?” Isabelle whined, flipping through the files of the case’s registry trying to find any fatal flaw marking in the neatly printed address.

“Yes _I am sure_ ; do you _know_ who you’re talking to?” Jace scoffed, insulted, jerking the wheel to a sharp right for the fifth time in the last hour, Alec was becoming fairly tired of being slammed into the passenger side window.

“Oh _I do know_   who I’m talking to, I’m talking to the same guy who insisted that it would be acceptable to hotwire a hand dryer at a rest stop; that you ended up being conjoined to for a good three hours!” Isabelle rasped hilariously, and Jace belted the wheel to the left, sending her airborne against the back of her seat, she snorted in defiance.

“Um, there’s a turn just ahead, try turning there?” Alec recommended, his elbow against the frame of the window, the vibrations making an itchy warble invoke in his ears. Jace, finally beat of veering in circles for the last hour and half, dejectedly turned onto the pebble laved pathway. And to the trio’s relief the yellow caution tape shone against the illuminations of the headlights. The entire aura of the place was so _wrong_ , it felt disgustingly appalling to even be in the presence of a place such as this.

Biting back the urge to turn around and bolt, they each clasped the door handles and popped open their compartments. The car let out a blinking whinny, and the header lights of the interior flickered to life. Once outside, they numbly slammed the doors, slowly treading onto forsaken ground. Isabelle leaned over to Jace, sighing eerily into his ear.  
“Please lock the car.” Jace grumbled, and pushed the highlighted button with a quirk of his eyebrow, and Isabelle smiled appreciatively at the other. Alec looked around at all of the idle train cars, none seeming to fit the picture.

“It wouldn’t be out here; it hasn’t been sanitized.” Isabelle informed him, using the flash of her phone to scout out the map on the pamphlet provided to her by a very handsome engineer. “Turning to the right here, we’ll step past the ones in use, near a back sector is where it’s being held.” She drowsed, directing a slender finger in course of a station-like building, a single cloudy light illuminating a rickety wooden bench alongside the tracks, a tall clock-like turret hanging close behind, the hands ripped off and disseminated to the floor. They nodded to one another, creeping towards the building until the mechanical beast shifted into view, yellow plastic markers strewn across the dew shambled ground beneath.

Jace shuffled through his bag, hefting out a bulky maroon flashlight, the radius was drearily detonated into illumination, and Alec’s stomach clenched at the burgundy grill of the creature at bay.

“Alec.” Jace’s fingers found their way around his wrist as he cautiously guided the other man towards the engine, a large number scrawled almost illiterately on the base.

“15”

_The devil’s number? How cruelly thought out, Camille._

He was reminded of the situation when a yellow marker hit the heel of his boot, and he hastily went to searching for any unmarked evidence. A glint of light shone in the bleak darkness, and Alec was enticed to it, as a crow would be to a glimmering sheet of tinfoil. He made himself aware that Jace and Isabelle were tending to the flank of the engine, and he was alone. He stepped closer, close enough to _touch_. He found himself at the plow-like grill, biting back the nausea as he slipped his fingers through the blood encrusted metal bars, clasping the source of interest. He yanked back, skinning the knobs of his knuckles, heckling at the sudden gust of feeling. He flipped over his palm, caked in a thin layer of gore, was a hoary pocket watch, the engraving of ‘BB’ in electrically attractive letters branded on the cover, he nudged open the top and was dissatisfied to find that it had unfortunately not endured the collision untouched, the hands were stationary, at exactly 5:24, he didn’t know whether it was night, or day, but it was still flawed.

He stared at it for what _seemed_ like a good ten minutes.

“Alec?” The sound of Jace’s voice rang over the lavish thoughts in his head, and he selfishly crammed the watch into his coat pocket, whirling around with a startled façade.

“Yeah?” He asked a little too quickly, Jace raised an eyebrow but clearly had other matters to attend to.

“We’re about to leave, it seems like everything worth mentioning is marked.” Jace mutters, quietly that it could’ve been to himself, the silhouette of Isabelle loomed behind Jace and Alec nodded attentively.

“Let’s go, then.”

-

The watch had been haunting him ever since he stepped foot into his house, quite literally. He ran his fingers through his hair tensely, sending daggered glances to the now-sanitary beau perched on his dresser. He paced as he thronged his toothbrush into his mouth, graciously ridding his mouth of the taste of the rancid boneyard.

He skimmed off the bathroom lights, his fingers brimming the hem of his shirt as he lifted it over his head, dismissing it to a dim crook of the floor. Stirring downwards, he loosened the button of his jeans and flung them aside as well. Clumsily clambering into bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes besieged to stay open with the heaviness of the day weighing them down.

At a point, he thought he had fallen asleep. But he scrunched his eyes together, confused after a short while, an unwelcoming light invading his plane of gloom. His eyes involuntary opened, and his hands immediately soared to his face, guarding himself from sudden parasitic limelight.

When he had finally come to terms that he was in fact, _not asleep_. He slowly allowed himself to adjust to the drone landscape he’d been fabricated in.

His mouth dropped open, his vision scanning down to himself. He was clothed in what he had been wearing prior to dwindling the idea of sleep, but to his surprise, there was one particular change in costume.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alec spotted the tempting gleam of the pocket watch, slipped in his jacket pocket, and his mind whirred with questions.

He glanced upwards, taking in his surroundings.

He was back at the boarding station, but everything was so austerely ignited, almost as if it had been perpetrated by an unforgiving whiteout. His breath shuttered, and to his surprise, what looked like rumpled ash trembled as weightless as moth wings to the ground beneath.

The hollow mourning of an active train sounded, and caught Alec’s attention, the despicably bulky engine rutting antagonistically against the railings as it sailed past him.

Trudging amongst the tracks felt hypnotic, the slated wedges seeming to shift underneath his oxblood sneakers. The grit of the wavering flooring skidding against the rubber bottoms, quiet scuttling barely audible against the roar of the detouring turbines. Alec fretfully rubbed at the skin between his forefinger and thumb, teeth fastened over chapped lips. He debated whether to cry out in attempt to find something- or someone, anything to loan him the release. His limbs felt frosted, clammed together by some apparition given off by the wavering nirvana encasing him.

“Hello?” He managed to whine movingly, hazel orbs vexing the fragmentations for a movement. Nothing seemed to skid out of place, the machines still passing in a thick heavy blur, the sounds slowly becoming indistinct over his own breathing.

“You’re here?” A calm voice stammered, and in a panic, Alec yelped in alarm at the sudden presence of another. His bottom lip crumpled under his teeth, he turned as abruptly as he stilled. Where before, there had been an open space, there was now an unkempt bench with a hunched over being perching upon it. The man had his knees tucked to his chest, peeking out from behind them with a form of watchful interest. Hands nervously departing his kneecaps, as he judiciously lowered his wards, his shoes clicking against the slate below. Alec swallowed filament, the calloused material clogging his throat exasperatingly.

“Who are you? Alec urges, his senses entangled with his surroundings, deadening his generally stone façade. He wasn’t sure how to approach the other, so he simply sputtered out whatever came to mind. “Your name.”

The man ponders for a moment, as if delving through a thought he had been processing, before turning to meet Alec’s scattered gaze. Compared to Alec, he was rather composed, a dim projection of distress on his face.

“Would it be such a silly thing to say, if I said I did not know?” His acquaintance inquired, his eyes cast aside to the cradles of the tracks. A smile dusted across his handsome features, Alec took the time to poster the gracious bead sheathed in a khol choker around the other’s neck, strained against the bob of his throat. Alec parted his lips to speak, but his voice just splintered against the friction.

“I’m kidding, of course.” He mused solemnly, blinking away the apparition of moisture in his soft eyes. He let himself have a moment of silence, before giving Alec a small beckoning glance, the rumble of the rapid steed still evident in the back of his mind. Alec numbly took a step forward, his legs weightless, countering against the fluctuating floor below. As soon as his pace was set, he slowly lowered himself onto the bench, the frail structure winding under the weight. Once he sat down, the other man softly spoke, careful not to disturb Alec beyond his fragile state.

“Magnus.” Was all he said, the slight discomfort in his voice sending dim chills against his spine. Alec arched his broad eyebrows, sending the male a puzzled look. That was instantly riven with shock, his hands confounding with a sudden chilling vigor.

“Wha- _Oh_.” He came to the logical realization and grimaced at himself for a moment; he’s gone completely psychotic. He was having a casual conversation, with a _lifeless_ man. He had absolutely no motive to respond to this figment of his imagination, but he felt the impulse to.

“Alec.” He yapped bluntly, and Magnus was not oblivious to the man’s recognition, his eyes were enticed to the man, despite it. The moment was diminished by a rushing engine as it lugged its weight harshly against the tracks, smoke huffing from the basin at the peak, gushing intoxicating fumes. Magnus watched it quietly, his lips parted as if the engine had left him without a say. Alec could hear his heart hammering against the rails of his chest, groveling through his insides and gouging out everything he had left, a pitiful tremble of his bottom lip silenced everything around them.

“Alexander.” Magnus’s wavering voice wove a quilt of soundlessness over them, their minds no longer private to their own cradles, in this chilling embrace, nothing can be savored. Alec raised his gaze instinctively at the sound of his full name elicited from the stranger’s tongue, a thick pit kinked in his stomach.

“Do you have the time?” Alec deadpanned, that was it? The time? Alec let out a muddled grunt and flicked open his coat pocket to press a swipe to his phone, swiftly noting the digits, and let the device sag back into his pocket.

“5:24, why?” Alec questioned, raising his nose to see an undoubtedly miserable expression crossing Magnus’s face, Alec’s heart tightened. “Uh-m?”

The other man fell dreadfully silent, kneading his fingers together and thinking soundlessly to himself, his eyebrows knitting together every now and then. With a moment of hesitation, Magnus flickered his gaze back to Alec’, a mournful atmosphere to the way he carried himself. In a matter of seconds, he completely reorganized his stature, turning back to the bare tracks, blonde dyed tips hanging over his field of vision.

“When you see the same things constantly over a long period of time, you get _absolutely sick_ of them,” Magnus paused, raising his head to peer at Alec. “I’ve seen these same tracks; I’ve watched these same trains spin in circles like spinning tops on a hardwood table, closer than I would’ve liked to.” His voice breaks near the end, a gasping breath escapes his lips before he continues, “Faces however, are one of the things I tend to forget. But of course, I am a face to be forgotten as well, more often than others.” A powerful engine swept by, Magnus’s hair parting with the force of the crushing gusts, Alec now noticed the tears painting Magnus’s porcelain face, and the haste of the train was absent. Everything held in the interval of clockwork.

“Because when you’re someone that nobody can see, it’s quite hard for one to put a face to a name.”

And when the train had finally passed, Magnus had gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm kind of struggling with this, but I'll push through! It's an odd idea I know, ehh.  
> Anyway, find me here!  
> tumblr: rheenes  
> instagram: alphosis
> 
> [ Each chapter has a minimum of 5k words, so don't worry about short little chapters, unless I have absolutely NO time at all to write, this IS SET TO BE a seven chapter long series, it can change. ]
> 
>  
> 
> If you liked the chapter, or want to comment anything please do! I'm much obliged to receiving input, thanks!!


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